


For You the Flag is Flung

by spirithorse



Series: Tales from the Titan Age [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco was sure that he had made the worst mistake in his life when he had chosen the Military Police. Written for Marco Bodt Appreciation Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fresh Meat

**Author's Note:**

> All of these take place in the same universe and were written out of order for the appreciation week. I’ve put them in chronological order for AO3, just because they made more sense this way in my mind. Title take from _O Captain! My Captain_ by Walt Whitman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 5 using the prompt: "Did I make a mistake?"

Marco fiddled with his extra shirt, not quite folding or rolling it as he looked around the room. Most of the bunks were empty, all of the other cadets already gone to the carts and horses that would take them to their new posts. Connie had shuffled out of the room just moments before, not making eye contact with Marco.

That wasn’t strange in itself, everyone that had been in the makeshift bunks had avoided looking at him. Marco was sure that he looked like a mess. 

There was a messy bandage over his eye to hide the stiches that held the empty socket shut, the white bandage making the forming scabs more visible. His missing arm was mostly covered, hiding the messy cauterized wound, but the sleeve dangled strangely. Marco was sure that most of his friends had spent more of their time staring at his wounds than packing. He didn’t mind, but it made him feel a bit weird. Every time he looked at them, it seemed like they weren’t sure that he was even alive.

He was just as surprised as they were, he hadn’t expected to make it out of Trost alive after he had been bitten by the titan. He couldn’t remember why he had been careless enough to let a titan get close to him or how he had escaped. He could barely remember waking up and performing basic first aid on himself. The first thing he remembered was waking up in the field hospital with Jean asleep and slumped partially onto his bed.

Marco shook his head, giving up on folding any of his clothes. The cart that would take him to his posting in the Military Police would be leaving soon, and Marco was sure that they wouldn’t hesitate to leave him behind, top ten standing or not. He had barely been able to stay upright through the ceremony. It hadn’t been an impressive showing and he had been able to see that in the faces of the officers waiting for him. What had been worse was turning around and seeing the faces of the rest of his friends as they had stayed in place to join the Scouting Legion. It had been enough for Marco to consider running back to them, despite everything that he had dreamed about.

There was still time for him to change his mind. Marco was sure that the officials from the Military Police wouldn’t take it well, but at least he would be surrounded by friends instead of strangers.

He fiddled with the shirt still in his hand, jumping when he heard the door to the house open. He spun around, some part of him expecting to see a titan looming over him. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Jean standing there. Marco dropped the shirt onto the bed, turning around completely to face him. “Jean.”

Jean nodded stiffly, looking like he didn’t quite know what to do. He rubbed his hands along his pants before glancing at the bag that Marco had on his bunk. “I thought you were leaving soon.”

“I am. I’m just having a bit of trouble.” Marco held up his only hand, biting his lip when he saw Jean wince. He twisted slightly so that Jean wouldn’t have to stare at his injured side, his attention going back towards the few things that he had strewn over his bed. “Everything’s a bit harder now.”

He thought that he had spoken quietly, but he heard Jean suck in a quick breath. He looked back over his shoulder at Jean, surprised when his friend stormed over and started to pack for him. “Jean, you don’t have to.”

“Well I don’t want you to miss this chance.” Jean stuffed the last of Marco’s clothes into the back, holding it out to him. When Marco didn’t immediately take the bag he practically shoved it in Marco’s face. “Come on. One of us might as well get to do this.”

Marco took the bag, awkwardly looping it around his arm. He glanced down at it before looking back up at Jean. Jean didn’t look back at him. In fact, he seemed to be trying to look anywhere other than Marco.

Marco licked his lips, trying to figure out something to say to Jean. His friend had been increasingly prickly since they had won back Trost and Marco couldn’t pinpoint why. He knew it was his injuries and the way that the officers had acted during the attack, but there were other things that he knew he was missing. 

He had only been in the barracks with the rest of them for one night, the rest of his time had been spent in the hospital. There had to have been conversations that had gone on while he was laid up, things that they hadn’t bothered to talk to him about and Marco didn’t know why. He didn’t know what about being injured had changed him to them, not unless it had made Trost linger too much. It would have been hard to put the horror behind them if they’d had Marco walking around. But none of them would be going with him save for Annie, but he didn’t think that she would care. She hadn’t seemed to have been affected by Trost too much.

He curled his fingers against the strap of his bag. It would probably be the last time he would see Jean for a while, and he didn’t want them to part like this. He swallowed and took a step forward, barely stopping himself from reaching out for Jean with the arm that he didn’t have. Marco winced at the impulse and the phantom ache in his arm. He curled into himself, staring miserably at the floor. “Jean, aren’t you going to leave too?”

He looked up in time to see Jean shake his head. “The Scouting Legion is going to stay behind for a few more days to help finish up here, then we’ll be going to our base.”

“Why?”

“Because the Garrison suffered a lot of losses and they don’t have the manpower to-”

“No.” Marco sucked in a deep breath. “Why did you choose the Scouting Legion instead of the Military Police? What about our dream?”

Jean shrugged, although Marco was sure that he saw a flash of regret on Jean’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “It was stupid.”

“Jean.”

“I was stupid thinking that we would be safe. I mean look what happened here. It was my home and…I’m not going to let this happen again. No one else is going to die because of me.”

Marco nodded. He was sure that he would be seeing members of their class dying for weeks in his nightmares, but it hadn’t been Jean’s fault. None of them had been prepared for what had happened at Trost. Marco didn’t think that anyone had been prepared for Trost, so it wasn’t anyone’s fault. But he was equally sure that Jean wouldn’t want to hear it. There had been a time to talk to him about what had happened, but Marco had been in the hospital and in no condition to do anything but sleep.

He walked over to Jean, wanting to reach out to touch him, but his hand was full. Instead, he stood awkwardly in front of Jean, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t…I didn’t…Do you think I made a mistake?”

Marco could tell that Jean was surprised by his question. His friend stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “No. One of us should get to do what we dreamed of.”

Jean tried to smile, but Marco noticed that Jean’s gaze darted to the empty sleeve on his right side.

His shoulders slumped, Marco feeling something in his stomach twist. Jean was just probably trying to be helpful, but it hurt in a way that Marco had never expected. He was hurt, and probably useless but that had been a realization that he had been trying not to think about. He couldn’t just turn and go back to Jinae, not when he would be just as useless there, and he had to do something. He had seen the titans break through Wall Rose, he had fought them back. After that, sitting around just didn’t feel right.

He shook his head. “Jean, I-”

“You should go. The carts looked like they were ready to leave.”

Marco opened his mouth to say something else, but he couldn’t think of a way to change Jean’s mind. For the first time in three years, he didn’t know how to talk Jean out of something.

He snapped his mouth shut, letting his head fall forward. Jean was right, he would be a liability in the Scouting Legion, and he wouldn’t be able to use the gear. In fact, Marco was sure that he would never be able to use the 3DMG again. There was nowhere else for him to go where he wouldn’t be getting in someone’s way. Marco glanced at the empty sleeve before turning around and walking out of the temporary barracks.

If Jean looked back at him, Marco didn’t notice, he purposefully kept his gaze on the street ahead of him. He was just grateful that Jean had come to see him off in some way, although that didn’t stop him from wishing that he could turn around and follow Jean. But his friend had a point, and he didn’t want to have Jean watch him die.

That didn’t stop his stomach twisting with nervousness, because Marco was sure that he had made the worst mistake in his life when he had chosen the Military Police.


	2. Strength of Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 2 using the prompt: "Feint of Steel/Faint of Heart."

Marco stumbled back into the cadet’s common room, groaning as he collapsed into one of the vacant chairs. He was barely aware of the others in the room, most of his attention on his aching feet and the pain building up in his arm. Marco hissed and reached over to rub the stump that was left of his arm, taking the time to look around the room.

He wasn’t surprised that their common room was not completely full. Most of the cadets went out to find something better to do than to hang out around the barracks after dinner. Most of them would be rushing to the bars and brothels around Stohess if they weren’t already there. If they had been lucky, Marco was sure that a few of them would be slipping into the party that was sure to be going on in the more affluent quarter of the city, trying to worm their way into the affections of the nobility. After all, the barracks had been filled with the news that Lieutenant Iyer had gotten himself engaged to Lady Bailey’s daughter and all of the perks that must have come with it. Marco was sure that most of the cadets thought that it was their chance to get out of the daily grind.

Of course, that would be if they had even gone on patrol in the first place.

Marco felt anger bubble up, but it didn’t last long. He was too tired to be angry for long. He had spent the entire day doing his own patrol and the others that he had found empty.

He let his hand drop back to his lap. He had been gone so long he had missed dinner, but there had been plenty of grateful locals that had given him food as he passed. For some of them, he was the first member of the Military Police that they had seen in a few weeks. Apparently, the news that new cadets were coming in had encouraged the other members to start slacking off. There was no point of them doing the grunt work if new blood was coming in. Unfortunately, the new cadets had adapted quickly to the way things were done in Stohess.

There have been five patrols of the city, all of them moving through the different neighborhoods and Marco had walked them all. He hadn’t been able to make them on their scheduled times or in any kind of order, but he had checked through the neighborhoods and stood guard over the morning market, for what little good that would do. He was only one person and that wasn’t enough to stop anything from happening. With only one arm, Marco was sure that he wouldn’t be able to do anything at all.

He ignored the faint rumbling in his stomach to tip his head back to rest against the back of his chair. What he wanted to do more than anything was to go to sleep, either in his own room back in Jinae or back in the barracks at training camp. Both of those were far more familiar than the room he shared with another cadet in Stohess. The only good thing about it was the fact that his roommate was never around. Marco was sure that the man was actually sleeping in the city with his girlfriend.

Marco lifted his head slightly as he heard someone moving through the room, raising an eyebrow when he saw that Annie was coming into the room. He hadn’t seen her around for a while. For some reason, he had convinced himself that it was because that she had been busy, although Marco couldn’t imagine Annie putting effort into the Military Police

He cleared his throat, a bit surprised by the way that she jumped. He tipped his head to the side before shaking his head and hauling himself slightly upright in his chair. “Hey.”

Annie stared at him for a moment before she finally nodded. She cocked her hip against a nearby table, watching him carefully before tugging at one of the strings on her hoodie. “I didn’t think I would see you.”

“I’m just as surprised. What have you been up to?”

Marco wasn’t surprised when she shrugged. Annie had never been the most talkative out of the 104th, but he would have thought that she would at least be relieved to talk to someone familiar or at least someone that let her be quiet. From everything that he had seen about her roommate, Annie probably would have been glad to have someone that would let her have her silence instead of just badgering her with questions.

He scooted forward in his chair, about to make his own excuse and leave when Annie met his gaze. The strangeness of that made him freeze, Marco watching as Annie dropped the string. She considering him coldly for a minute before shaking her head. “You ran all of the patrols today.”

It wasn’t a question and Annie didn’t even try to make it one.

Marco nodded and let his shoulders slump forward. “Someone had to do it.”

“No.”

“It’s our job to. We don’t get paid to sit around all day and we didn’t train to do that either. We trained to protect people.”

“And serve the king.”

Marco laughed at that, not surprised that she remembered that. He raised one shoulder in a shrug. “Why not?”

“Because neither of them care.”

“You sound like Shadis.”

“That doesn’t make me wrong.” She twisted slightly to pick at a splinter of wood that was coming free of the table, keeping quiet until she had worked it all the way out. Annie turned it over in her fingers, Marco seeing her whole hand tense like she was about throw it before she just dropped it back to the table. The splinter rolled off the edge, but Annie’s attention was back on him. “And that doesn’t make it your problem.”

“Someone has to do it.”

“Not one person. Try reporting them.”

Marco scoffed. “It won’t change anything.”

“So you’re going to do it yourself.”

If Marco hadn’t known Annie then he would have thought that her tone of voice meant that she disapproved. Instead, it was just a statement. Marco was sure that there was no judgment in what she said, but he felt it.

He was just bumbling along the best he could, but that wouldn’t last forever. Worst still it wouldn’t help anything in the end. A new batch of cadets would come in and, while there might be a few that would help, Marco was sure that most of them would fall into the usual pattern of the Military Police. Then it would just be him and Marlowe, and sometimes Boris and Hitch when they got bored of just lazing around the barracks. It wasn’t something that would last forever. As soon as they were done Marco would just be useless.

He curled his hand into a fist, feeling his nails dig into his palm. He didn’t want to be useless, it was a frightening thought. Marco was sure that he would always have a space in the Military Police, but he hated the idea that he would become like the rest of them. It had been his dream to join the Military Police and actually protect people, protect the king.

Marco swallowed and looked back up at Annie. She had gotten bored with staring off into one corner of the room. She had pushed away from the table and started to walk out of the room. Marco couldn’t imagine what she was planning to do, but Annie’s business was her own and Annie would keep it that way. But it meant that the only person from the 104th was walking away from him.

He turned in his seat, just stopping himself from reaching out for her. He didn’t quite stop himself from calling out for her. “Annie.”

She paused by the door, but she didn’t turn around to look at him. “I told you what you should do.”

“Reporting wouldn’t do anything.”

“There’s your answer then.” She walked out of the room before he could ask her anything else.

Marco eased himself out of the chair, staring after her. Annie would say anything else, but the silence was telling. He could report the lack of patrols, but he knew that the captains wouldn’t care. The head of the Military Police in Stohess wouldn’t care. Marco was sure that the problem had been going on for years. But the fact that he would prefer to keep silent than try said a lot. At least Marlowe was willing to make noise. Marco would prefer to just take on the work for himself.

He stepped back, leaning against the chair. He dragged his hand down his face, considering the two options before pushing them both from his mind. He was just too tired to think too much on it. He ached all over and his stomach was grumbling. He pushed away from the chair and started shuffling out into the hall. The mess was closed, but there was always something that he could scrounge up and take to his room. He would consider Annie’s advice then, but only after he had eaten and slept. It was a chronic problem, but it could wait until the morning.


	3. Wake-Up Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 6 using the prompt: "Epiphany."

The clatter of Šarac’s hooves over the cobble was the only sound in the early morning. Marco leaned over the piebald’s neck, rocking with the easy motion of the horse’s canter.

He was aware that he shouldn’t have been urging his horse to canter through the streets of Stohess, there was sure to be someone who thought it was an emergency and scuttle out of their house screaming about a titan. That or he would let Šarac charge head first into one of the piles of clutter that littered the streets of Stohess. Marco was sure that the horse would do it; Šarac wasn’t the laid back horse that Marco had ridden during training, he was just a horse that Marco had caught while Annie had been attacking Stohess. If he didn’t pay attention, the two of them could go down in a tangle of limbs, not that Marco thought that anyone would particularly care.

All anyone could talk about were the titans that had raged through the streets. About Eren and Annie.

Marco felt bile start to rise in the back of his throat, trying to get himself to focus. He didn’t want to think about Annie, not when she had spent the last month with them. Not when she had been pretending that she had done _nothing_ to him.

His stomach twisted, Marco hauling back on the reins. Šarac slowed at the signal, but Marco was already throwing himself off the horse. He stumbled over to the nearest alley and vomited.

Marco planted his hand on the nearest wall, curling his fingers into the brick and crumbling mortar. He used that hold to keep him upright, although he wasn’t aware of the rough texture of the brick on the wall, his mind was back a month ago in Trost.

He wasn’t surrounded by buildings, he was on a rooftop with Reiner holding him still and Annie tearing at his maneuver gear. He could still feel bits of the harness coming loose as Annie tried to pull his gear off. He could hear the clatter as she threw the vents and the wire winders away, followed by the blade cases. Then the three of them were gone, leaving him screaming after them and the rest of his harness twisted around his legs. Then the titan. Then…

Marco shuddered as he vomited again, but nothing but bile came up. He heaved and coughed, the burn in his throat added to by the phantom pain in his arm and the ache on the right side of his face.

He remained partially bent over, panting heavily as he tried to work his way out of the tangle of memories. He had always known that a titan had attacked him, there was no other explanation for the way that his arm had bitten off. Besides that, he remembered staring up at a gigantic eye as his arm had been bitten off. He also remembered tumbling out of the titan’s mouth when the thing had let up, but then it had been nothing but a blur. 

He had been told that he had been found when the first of the clean-up crews had started to push through the city as the last of the titans had been killed. From little he could remember, he must have crawled into the building and then come out when he had thought that it was clear, but landing on the roof had pushed broken tiles into his face, eventually leading to him losing his eye. But he hadn’t remembered how he had gotten into that position, a roof in half of his face and a tourniquet jerry-rigged from his harness around his missing arm, at least not until he had seen Annie transform into a titan, not until he’d gotten the time to remember.

Marco jumped when he felt something touching his hair. He turned his head, letting out a half broken sob when he saw that Šarac had come up to lip at his hair. He reached up a shaky hand to stroke the horse’s muzzle, amazed that Šarac was standing still. He had thought that the horse would have continued to run. He slid his hand up the horse’s face and down onto his neck. Marco splayed his fingers over the line between a black patch of fur and a white patch. The horse was solid and warm, exactly what he needed.

He turned his head to wipe his mouth on his sleeve before pressing his face against Šarac’s neck. The piebald snorted but kept still as Marco breathed in the smell of hay, horse sweat and leather.

It was the smell of home, the smell of the barracks from the training camp, the smell of Jean. It was everything that he used for comfort back when he had been training. He reached up to grab a handful of Šarac’s mane, holding on for dear life as he tried to push through the memories.

They were bad enough that he wanted to forget them again. He didn’t want to remember that Bertholdt, Reiner and Annie had turned on them, that they had been trying to kill them since the day they had started training. He could remember Annie working so hard with Eren to help him improve his hand-to-hand combat skills, Reiner helping with any of their friends who needed it. Bertholdt had never been the most talkative, but he had been a steady presence in their training days. And it had all been a lie.

Marco wasn’t sure if he was more shocked, saddened or angry, it was hard to pick any of the emotions when he was ricocheting between all of them. At least Šarac seemed content to stand in place until he was done.

He pulled his face away from the horse when he heard someone walking down the street. Marco was surprised to feel tears on his face, quickly wiping them off.

He held still as the two women walked by, surprised by the baskets tucked under their arms and the slight nod that they gave him. The younger one lagged behind. She gave him a nervous smile, readjusting the basket under her arm. “Everything alright, sir? The market still on for the day or should we go home?”

Marco opened his mouth to speak to her, only to realize that he didn’t know what to say to her. It wasn’t even about the market, it was her first question that baffled him. How could she think that anything was alright after what had happened? She didn’t even know the full extent of the damage; all she knew was that a titan had gotten into the city and destroyed a good portion of it. She didn’t know that the titan had been lurking among the trainees, that there had been two others. That there could be more and they would never know. Nothing would be alright, because they couldn’t know if they were safe. There could be more titans lurking among them, just waiting to kill them all.

He must have taken too much time because the young woman took a step closer to him. “Sir? We are safe to move around, right?”

Marco glanced over at the woman that he assumed was her mother, watching as the woman edged closer to her daughter. The longer he kept silent the more frightened they would be, as they should.

Except that would help nothing. If the people were completely scared, then nothing would get done. They would be stuck in a panic until someone could prove that there were no more titans, something that Marco doubted that anyone would be able to do. If they didn’t stay in that state of shock, then it would turn into a witch hunt. Marco shivered at the thought. There would be no controlling that, which would mean that the titans would have won.

If he broke down, the titans would have won.

The thought galvanized him, Marco forcing himself to smile. He hoped that, in the dim light of the early morning, the women wouldn’t be able to tell that he was faking it. “I’m not sure about the market, but you are safe to move around. I would be careful though, some of the streets are almost completely blocked.”

The simple reassurance seemed to do the trick. The young woman gave him a thankful nod and scurried back to her mother. They joined arms and set off again. Marco stepped around Šarac, watching as they made their way to one of the central squares. He wasn’t sure if their path would be clear all the way through, but the women seemed determined enough. But, if living in Jinae had taught him anything, where there were two women more would follow. As soon as they set themselves up, the rest of the market would follow.

If that was the case, then there should be someone out there in the square, like the always was. Marco was sure that, the more normal that the day would seem. And that would do a lot for the people of Stohess. There wouldn’t be panic or rampaging through the streets as long as it looked like the Military Police seemed to be in control. The problem was that Marco was sure that most of them were hiding away and trying to sort out what had happened themselves.

He swallowed and looked back at where he could just see the edge of the barrack’s roof. He sighed and hauled himself back up into the saddle. Šarac snorted, but stood still until Marco tugged on the reins. The piebald turned smoothly, nearly bolting off into a canter until Marco reined him in. He didn’t want to be rushing through the streets, everything had to appear normal, at least for a while longer.

Marco took a deep breath, wiping his mouth one more time. He gave himself a quick once over to make sure that he looked presentable. Aside from a rumpled jacket and a shirt that Marco was sure that he had been wearing the day before, he looked like any other member of the Military Police, at least one that had been on patrol. It wasn’t the perfectly polished soldier that would usually be roaming Stohess, but it would be enough.

He nodded to himself, collecting the reins in his hands. Šarac held still for a moment, Marco feeling the horse’s muscles twitch from being still. He shook his head and gave the horse a gentle nudge with his heels, Šarac snorting and walking after the two women as they made their way to the center of the city.


	4. The One in Which Marco is Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 7 using the prompt: "Growing Pains."

Marco rode Šarac through the streets of Stohess, sitting limply in the saddle. It was easier to let the piebald have his head and pick his way home than to pay attention to the way that they were going. Most of his attention was on the half built houses or the piles of debris that were still left in the streets. His head was filled with the names of the streets and half formed orders to send out cadets to start picking them apart. The people of Stohess had already taken their fill from the piles of debris, it was more than time to move them away. But it was just another thing out of many that Marco had to do.

He let go of the reins to run his hand over his face, barely keeping himself from sighing. He didn’t like thinking about the pile of paperwork making the top of his desk disappear, mostly because most of it wasn’t supposed to be his. Marco had liberated the office from one of the captains who had mysteriously disappeared after Annie had finished her rampage through Stohess. Marco had his own suspicions where the man had gone, especially since he had had connections to one of the noble families who had also slipped away around the same time. A lot of the officers had done the same, slipping away into the woodwork and leaving a strange chain of command and paperwork that eventually drifted over to Marco’s desk. He would have spread it back out around the new command structure that was starting to reassert itself, but he was sure that it would just drift right back to his desk.

It wouldn’t get done any faster sitting there, mostly because Marco was sure that something would get lost no matter how many times he and Hitch went through them. It was enough for him to miss Marlowe, because five hands had to be better than three. But wishing wouldn’t drag Marlowe back from where the Scouting Legion had taken him nor would it get the paperwork once.

He dropped his hands back to the reins, twitching them gently against Šarac’s neck. The horse snorted and turned down another street, Marco not bothering to stop him when the horse moved into a trot. They were close enough to home that Šarac was perking up. The horse was probably just as ready to return back as he was. The two of them had been on patrol and then doing a sweep of the city for the council and the report his commander.

Marco didn’t think that Commander Dawk was actually reading the reports that he send, but he kept sending them. Some news about what was happening had to be better than nothing.

He frowned and sat back in the saddle, glad that Šarac had a smooth trot. It allowed him to sit and think instead of worrying that he was going to be jounced out of the saddle. He turned his gaze to the square that he was passing, muttering a curse under his breath as he recognized the two soldiers standing there. Marco pulled on the reins, ignoring the annoyed snort from his horse as he turned Šarac away from the stables. A kick got Šarac trotted toward where Hitch and Boris were standing.

Hitch was the one to wave him over, Marco sliding off his horse’s back before Šarac had actually stopped. He made sure to hold onto the reins, ignoring the way that Šarac danced to the end of their length. The horse would calm down soon enough, if they stayed in place long enough for that, but Marco doubted it. The square was the closest he would get back to the barracks unless he could manage to slip off. He tucked the reins under his arm, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eyes. “Hitch.”

Boris was the only one who saluted properly, not that Marco cared. Hitch just flicked her fingers from her forehead, giving him a grin. “Hey.”

He wanted to ask what the matter was now, but he bit the question back. Marco just sighed and reclaimed his grip on the reins. “I didn’t expect to see the two of you here.”

“We had to chase Rankin’s patrol out.” Hitch grinned, Marco sure that she had enjoyed that. Rankin was one of the remaining officers and probably the only one that was trying to resist the new chain of command. None of the new officers had the rank to really turn him out, but they could keep pushing him until someone in the new government realized who was actually in charge.

Hitch beamed at him before gesturing to the small group of people who had gathered. “Then we met the Merchant’s Guild coming to find you.”

“Really?”

If Hitch heard the exhaustion in his voice, she didn’t show it. “They wanted to discuss the river traffic and further trade contracts with Trost.”

“Are they in agreement at least?”

“So they say.”

Marco eyed the gathered members before shaking his head. The sun was already setting behind the wall, leaving the city in a murky twilight. He didn’t have the time to worry about them today, not when he was sure that at least five other guilds would be after him. It would be better to try and organize it. Maybe he could get Boris or Iona to preside over the meeting since the two of them had more experience with the guilds than a country boy from Jinae. If he remembered correctly, Iona had an uncle who lived in Trost, an in that they could use for a kind of balance.

That sounded like the best plan that he had, especially when he was running on a few hours of sleep. He wouldn’t be able to pay attention to anything that was said. Besides, the Stohess council would make a fuss if they were left out of the talks. With the section of Military Police in the city in disarray and a new government, the council was more than willing to squeeze every bit of power they could get out of the situation, and Marco wasn’t keen to let them.

Marco looked back at the guild members. “We’ll need a proper meeting for this. Spread the word. Boris, send out the runners when you get the time.”

Boris saluted him again, Marco watching as the man turned on his heel and walked away. With the showing that Boris had been giving, Marco was more than willing to let him go to the meeting. He would send Iona as well, just for her other connections, but he was confident about Boris as a representative of the Military Police. It would also free him up to dig through the paperwork again.

As it was, he knew that the time to pay the soldiers was coming up soon, and nothing would thin out the ranks than the soldiers not getting paid. If that happened, then the ranks of the Military Police would start to thin dangerously and that would attract the wrong kind of attention. Marco had just sent out the reports that he and Hitch had managed to cobble together after the coup to take over the throne and the attack on Orvud, but he didn’t know if Commander Dawk had gotten the time to read them. He doubted that the commander had, because there had been no response to them. Hitch seemed to take that as good news, but Marco was nervous. Commander Dawk was full in his rights to call what had happened to the barracks at Stohess a mutiny and kick them all out. Marco doubted that it would stick considering how desperate the Scouting Legion was for soldiers, but it still made him worry.

He started when Hitch threw her arm over his shoulders. She leaned against him for a moment before starting to nudge him in the direction of the barracks. Marco was tempted to resist, but the temptation of returning to the barracks was too much. Besides, he didn’t think that Šarac would be happy if they started to move away from the barracks again. He tightened his hold on the reins and allowed Hitch to guide him in the right direction.

She patted his shoulder and looked ahead of them, Marco relaxing the longer she remained pressed up against him, a partial shield against all the things that were waiting for him back at the barracks.

Hitch might have been steady beside him, but she didn’t remain quiet for long. “You going to that?”

“No. Boris will be fine. I have other things to worry about.”

“Tell me about it.” Hitch groaned and tipped her head back. “I’m tempted to send out a squad of cadets to steal Marlowe back. I don’t think that Scouts would mind. I can’t imagine their actually using him for something important.”

Marco laughed at that, shaking his head. He doubted that Marlowe would be so willing to come back, even if the Military Police were starting up the slow road to reform. He understood the lure of the Scouting Legion, the one part of the military that was actually doing something. There had been times that he had been tempted to do the same, but he couldn’t just give up. The Military Police was still his dream. It was bruised and battered, but it was still his dream.

He leaned against Hitch for a moment before straightening his spine. Hitch recognized the movement, stopping her lean against him but she didn’t remove her arm around his shoulders. “I’ve been watching the officers, and a few are starting to figure out which way the wind is blowing.”

“Do you trust them?”

“Who knows? Want to put them through their paces?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say now, that it was better to run with the people that they had, but that wasn’t working too well. He would run the soldiers he had into the ground. He had to take chances or else all of this would fail before they got the city back up and running.

Marco took a deep breath and nodded. “We might as well.”

“Good, because I have plans.”

He glanced at Hitch out of the corner of his eye. “It sounds like you’d be the better choice for my job.”

Hitch snorted and waved one hand dismissively. “I’m only here for the perks. You noticed that I jumped ship when I noticed which side would triumph.”

Marco doubted that it was the truth, but he gave her a serious look. “So I can’t expect you to stay for long?”

“Maybe. It depends on my plans.” Hitch gave him a wink. “And on your plans. So, what are those plans?”

“Making it through payday.”

“Yes sir.” Hitch shifted like she was going to salute him, but she seemed to change her mind at the last minute. Instead, she tapped his shoulder. “And maybe we’ll be able to get a day off if we get lucky.”

Marco sighed and nodded. He doubted that, but he would let Hitch think that way. They would get a day off when they finally got the Military Police back in order, but at least Marco could see that day looming on the horizon.


	5. Pledges and Pathways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 4 using the prompt: "Stand Your Ground."

Marco stood at attention, highly aware of the three officers standing in the room with him. The fact that Hitch and Boris were in the room too didn’t help, especially since he was aware of their lack of rank. It was the word of three cadets against two lieutenants and at least three more squad leaders that were out. Marco was sure that they were looking suspiciously busy now that Commander Dawk was in Stohess, anything to keep them out of Commander Dawk’s way. He and his comrades were just part of the distraction. It was hard for the commander to pay attention to the thousands of tiny problems when he was presented by a bigger one, no matter how made up certain parts were.

He swallowed and let his gaze dart back to where Commander Dawk was sitting behind the desk, the man reading through the myriad of reports and complaints that had been filed against them. Marco thought he recognized Captain Rankin’s handwriting on one of them, not surprised by that. The man had been trying to get them out of the Military Police since Marco, Boris and Hitch had started to throw their weight around.

Marco sucked in a quick breath when Commander Dawk laid down the reports, more than half of them unread. He snapped into something a little closer to attention, highly aware of the abbreviated salute that he was forced to give. Marco was sure that the commander’s gaze lingered over him for a moment long than necessary before he turned his attention elsewhere. Marco breathed out a sigh of relief, the sensation not lasting long.

Commander Dawk nodded towards the two soldiers standing behind the three of them. “Lieutenant Holzmann, Captain Cokes, where are the others with complaints?”

“They’re on duty.” The lieutenant was the one to speak up, Marco tipping his head so he would be able to see the man. “They send their apologizes, but they felt that the reconstruction of Stohess was more important than this disciplinary action. Everything is in their reports.”

The commander raised an eyebrow and paged through the reports for a moment more before shoving the pile off to the side. From what Marco could see the man looked frustrated and exhausted. With the news that was coming from the capital, Marco didn’t blame him. Apparently the coup hadn’t gone as smoothly as everyone had hoped. The military branches were technically in control, but Marco doubted that they were cooperating. There were too many different agendas for that.

He straightened up his shoulders when Commander Dawk’s gaze landed on him. The commander rubbed at the corner of one eye as he talked to Marco. “You and your compatriots have been accused of willfully disobeying orders and undermining the chain of command in a crisis. As you can see there are many instances reported of this behavior. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Marco heard Boris and Hitch shifting, aware that the two of them were looking back at him. He was almost sure that Boris would duck out, just to keep himself out of trouble. The while reason that he had joined with Marco’s side was because it had been easier than doing nothing, especially once he and Hitch had started to gain ground.

He licked his lips, surprised when he felt Hitch grab onto the end of his shirt. He glanced down at her head, catching the edge of a nod from her. Marco was surprised at such an obvious show of support, but he didn’t let that distract him. He sucked in a quick breath and looked back at the commander, giving him a sharp nod.

“I can guess what’s in the reports and I will admit to disobeying orders that were given. But it’s hard to listen to those orders when they were to ignore what was happening in the city and keep to ourselves.” Marco felt the hand he had pressed against his heart shake, but he didn’t dare lower it. “Or if they were to let things go that would only be beneficial to the Military Police instead of the people.”

He heard the two officers behind him start to sputter, only to quiet down when Commander Dawk shook his head. Marco tensed under the sudden attention. He knew that it would be better to keep his own mouth shut, but he couldn’t risk it, not when the officers were more than willing to let their fake reports speak for them.

He swallowed and took a step forward, feeling Hitch tighten her grip on his shirt, preventing him from moving too far forward. Marco rocked to a stop, glancing down at the reports before looking up to meet Commander Dawk’s gaze. “We had to clean up the city or else it would become like Trost. I’ve seen the reports from there and only the rich and merchants are making any money. Everyone else lives in half built houses and hovels. Stohess couldn’t stand that, not with the nobles and merchants leaving. If I had let them, then we would have eventually lost the whole city.”

Marco saw Commander Dawk’s eyebrow twitch, but he didn’t let that stop him. “I pledged my heart to the king, sir. And, in the absence of one, I pledge my heart in the service of the people.”

A look of shock and something that might have been anger crossed the commander’s face. Marco heard Hitch curse under her breath, the woman giving the end of his shirt a sharp tug in rebuke. It didn’t matter, because he had said what he had wanted to stay. If that didn’t make an impression, then he didn’t know what would. If Commander Dawk didn’t like it, then Marco was sure that he could slink off to the Scouting Legion, although what he could do for them Marco didn’t know, but at least it would be something. Marlowe would be there as would his friends, as would Jean. It would be like coming home and it would feel like giving up.

Commander Dawk stared at him for a moment more before motioning for him to step back. Marco nodded and scooted backward, dropping his gaze to the floor. He remained still under the commander’s gaze, catching himself from breathing a sigh of relief. It would be better to stand his ground and wait for judgment than reacting.

He glanced up when he heard a shuffle of paper, Marco surprised when the commander halved the pile of reports he had gotten. The commander shifted a few more reports to one side, creating two stacks of reports; one vastly taller than the other. Commander Dawk gave the five of them an even look before rested a hand on the smaller stack. “I have read a selection of the reports you’ve been given me, but I have read _all_ of the reports sent to me from Bodt, Dreyse and Feulner on the condition of Stohess and how they brought it along. I have also looked at the records and had a good look at the city as I rode in. I’m inclined to believe them over the rest of you.”

For a moment, Marco was confused. It sounded like Commander Dawk was supporting his officers, at least until Captain Cokes gasped and stepped forward.

He stumbled away from her as she pushed between him and Hitch. Captain Cokes slammed her hands on the desk, glaring at the commander. “This is outrageous.”

“What is outrageous is what you have been doing. What is outrageous is everything going on. These three cadets have managed to get the city up and running with half of the barracks missing, officers that _you_ should have been going after.”

“They were busy going after the Scouting Legion.”

“Even after the orders came to desist? That was a week ago and they haven’t returned. I checked and they are all safely tucked away as personal guards for the nobles as they wait to hear who the new monarch will be.”

“I couldn’t have known.”

“No, but you should have been paying attention.”

Captain Cokes shifted in place for a moment, opening her mouth to speak only to snap it shut when the commander stood up. “I’m not about to let the Military Police slip, not when we’re under so much scrutiny. Considering what has happened in the weeks that my attention was elsewhere, I’m not going to miss it. Cokes, Holzmann, you are dismissed.”

The two stared at him, Holzmann the first to turn and walk out of the room without a complaint. Marco didn’t get a good look at the man’s face before he was gone. He didn’t get the chance to look at Cokes’ face either, the woman turning on her heel and storming out of the room. He swallowed and straightened himself back up to attention as Commander Dawk’s attention swung his attention back their way.

Marco stood under the gaze for a moment before the commander shook his head and waved Marco off. “Go on. Just remember not to step on too many toes. We don’t have the chance to get any more soldiers. We seem to be losing more than we’re keeping.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Carry on then, Captain.”

Marco froze at the rank, staring at the commander in shock. The commander didn’t give him anything more than another impatient wave. It was only then that Marco allowed himself to be towed from the room.

Hitch was the one who towed him into the hallway and then sent him forward with a shove. When he spun around to face her, she just grinned and waved him on. “Get going. There was a list long enough to be your missing arm before we were called into that meeting.”

“But-”

“Go.” Hitch mimicked the same impatient wave that the commander have given them, Marco turning on his heel before he had thought the motion through. He flinched and glanced back over his shoulder, not surprised to see Hitch still standing in the middle of the hallway with her arms crossed over her chest.

She flicked her fingers at him. “Don’t make me say it again, or I will chase you out of here. What an impression that will make, their new captain being chased out of the barracks.”

Marco didn’t think that she would actually make good on her threat, but he wasn’t going to tempt her. He gave Hitch a shaky smile before starting down the hall. He tried to focus on the things that he had been working on before Commander Dawk had called them into the office, but he couldn’t move beyond the rank.

Being called captain didn’t really mean anything, other than an official increase in pay and the title attached to his name. He had been working in the position so long that he had thought that it wouldn’t have meant anything when it was finally bestowed on him, but it had been wrong. Marco knew that nothing was going to change, not even the angry looks and the arguments that he had sometimes gotten from the other officers, but those didn’t matter. For once, it felt like he was gaining on all the problems that Stohess had instead of frantically scrambling to keep up with them.

For once, even missing an arm and an eye, he felt like he was useful.


	6. Ambition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 1 using the prompt: "Moral Codes"

This was the part of his new duties that Marco hated the most.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose. On the desk in front of him was the half-finished patrol schedule, something that he should have been working on. Instead his attention were on the cadets, the ones that had been pulled from this year’s training camps. 

He had expected that, after three years of training, they would have realized just what the Military Police was about. After all, they were no longer in the old days of King Fritz. Queen Historia had been on the throne for nearly five years now, and they had been in the service for the better part of a month.

Marco looked up at the cadets, some part of him glad that there were only five of them. In previous years the whole group had been sent to him, so it was a little improvement. Still, the sight of any of his cadets in his office was enough to make him wish that Hitch was in the room with him. Or Jean. From what he had heard of Jean, his friend was terrorizing his squad in the Scouting Legion to great effect.

His fingers inched towards where Jean’s latest letter to him was waiting, but he jerked his fingers back. Wishing wouldn’t get him anywhere by wasted time and an unfinished patrol schedule.

He let his hand drop down to the armrest, Marco noticing that most of the cadets were staring at the empty sleeve that dangled by his side. He was far too used to it to comment. Besides, it always seemed to inspire some kind of admiration that Marco couldn’t imagine getting any other way. He wasn’t like those old fashioned heroes or their drill sergeant, which made disciplining them that much harder.

“Cadets, I had hoped that you would have listened to the warnings that you were given before. But this is your last one, for each of you.” He took a deep breath as he stood up, watching as one of the cadets leaned back. Marco didn’t think that he was too intimidating, but he would take it. Just as long as the message went through and he didn’t have to do this same lecture again.

He tucked his one hand behind his back, echoing the position that he remembered Keith Shadis had taken whenever he was lecturing anyone in the 104th. Marco let his gaze linger on each of them before starting with the cadet whose infraction was the least offensive. “Charlotte, if you can’t make your patrols, make sure that you tell your squad leader. They have the final say about if you are going out or not. Hangovers are _not_ an excuse.

“Lia and Finn, gambling is not allowed in the barracks. I don’t care if you’ve heard about the card games that happened here, but they aren’t happening anymore. Your job is to protect the people, not put your feet up and let the others pull your weight.” Finn opened his mouth to speak, Marco shaking his head. “I don’t care if you were in the top ten, that’s no longer a qualification. What that means was that you excelled in your training, so I should see that here.”

Finn ducked his head, Marco giving the boy a short nod before he pivoted slightly to be able to see the fourth cadet better. “Maya, no bribes.” The girl sucked in a quick breath, looking like she was shocked by his knowledge. Marco nodded slowly. “The people of Stohess trust us, which means they’ll tell me if any of my cadets start to push their weight around. You get paid enough. If you want a chance to get rich, find yourself an apprenticeship.”

Maya glared at him before flouncing out of the room, Charlotte swaying in place before she seemed to remember herself. It was a good catch, considering that Marco had heard that the two girls had been close since they had both joined the Military Police. It seemed like Charlotte was at least thinking about her future, which meant that there was still time for her. As far as Marco could see, Maya would have to be turned out.

He tried to ignore the twist in his stomach at the thought because he hated it. He wanted all the soldiers that he could get, but he couldn’t keep the ones that would ruin everything that he had worked for. Marco could argue all he wanted, but he was sure that Commander Dawk would give the same answer. He would have to talk to Hitch to get the process going while he tried to shift the soldiers that he had left to make up the gap.

Marco shook his head and looked up at the four remaining cadets. They were all still standing at attention, three of them looking properly chastised. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a few more deep breaths before he opened them again. “Cadets Lia, Finn and Charlotte, you are dismissed.”

The three saluted and walked out of his office, Marco hearing them break out into a run as soon as they were in the hall. He waited for their footsteps to start echoing before he turned to the last cadet.

The boy still stood at attention in front of his desk, although Marco could see the boy’s shoulders relaxing a bit. There was a hint of a smile on the boy’s face, probably because he thought he was getting off easily. Marco bit his lip, steeling himself one last time before giving the boy a glare. “Cadet Bodt, I have gotten complaints about you skipping patrols as well as your assigned duties. Worst still, you’ve said that it’s on _my_ orders that you have done it.”

“Marco-” The cadet bit back whatever he was going to say next. It was good that the cadet at least through it over before he opened up his mouth to speak again. “Sir, I-”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Matteo. You have been abusing that fact that you are related to me and I will not have it.”

“Not too much.”

“That it happens at all is a problem.” Marco leaned forward, bracing himself with one hand on his desk. He glared at his little brother before shaking his head. “Last chance, Matteo. Change or leave.”

His brother didn’t salute him, Matteo just turned on his heel and stormed away like Maya had. Marco stared at the door until Matteo was gone from his sight, but then he sunk back into his chair, running his hand over his face. He had hopes for three of them, Marco was sure that they would straighten themselves out now that they realized what would happen if they didn’t listen. The fact that Maya was being discharged was enough of a looming threat to keep them from trying again. It was his brother that he worried about. Marco didn’t think that Matteo would believe that he would send him packing back to Jinae.

Marco tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. It was enough to make him that he had started to bring Hitch in with him, because a united front would do so much more. More than that, he wished that Jean was there. A scarred and serious member of the Scouting Legion would be just enough to scare them into line. Better than that, it would mean that Jean was in Stohess with him instead of charging ahead into the lands outside of the walls.

He swallowed, trying to push the sense of loneliness away. If there was anything that he had learned sitting in Stohess while Jean was away, it was patience. Dealing with the cadets just reinforced that.

The one good thing that would come out of riding the cadets hard was that the Military Police hadn’t slipped back to the way that it had been before. At least he had accomplished that.


	7. Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 3 using the prompt: "Salad Days."

Marco leaned his shoulder against the wall, ignoring the cold against his skin. He could remedy that by banking the fire in his stove, but that was all the way across the room. Besides, it wasn’t too cold for him to deal with, not when he started moving. And the barracks were certainly warmer compared to outside.

Snow coated the courtyard of the barracks, the fall deep enough to cover the cobblestones completely. The snow had covered the roofs of Stohess, coating the city in white instead of the reds and browns that he was used to. Marco tipped his head, resting the side of his head against the glass.

He winced at the cold but didn’t bother to move his head. The shift had given him a better view of the courtyard below.

There were a few cadets out in the snow, officially tasked with cleaning out paths so the patrols could get out easier and so they could get the horses out onto the streets. The path from the front door of the barracks to the street was about halfway finished. Marco could see a shovel sticking out of the snow by the end of the path. The cadets were harder to spot with the way that they rushing all over the place. He could see a few snowballs whizzing by, but he couldn’t see if they had made forts yet. Marco was sure that they were trying to be sneaky. There were other captains that would yell at them to get back to work, which was probably the reason for their secrecy. Of course, they had forgotten that the courtyard was right below Marco’s room and that he could see everything that they were doing.

He shook his head and rocked back so he was out of sight of the window. He would let the cadets play, considering that digging them out wasn’t an urgent problem. The snow wasn’t deep enough to be any danger, it was just annoying for humans and horses to move through, and it wouldn’t matter. The rest of Stohess wouldn’t be clear for a few days. If anything people would dig themselves out leaving spotty patches of cleared street. The order was mostly just a standing one to keep the cadets busy. As far as Marco was concerned, they could spend their time out there as long as they went on their patrol as usual. Snow would not stop the Military Police, especially when they were often called upon to heal deal with any trouble that came with the snow.

They hadn’t so far, but Marco was cautious. This was the first snowfall of the winter and, while Stohess wouldn’t be as hard hit as the cities in the north, there was a chance that things could still get bad. He would have to rotate the patrols to start covering more ground and possibly increase the soldiers in them. He would have to check in with the farrier to see if he could get the horse’s shoes replaced with something that would deal better with ice and snow if there looked like there was another snowstorm coming.

He drummed his fingers against his hip as he ran through the list of things that needed to be done, whether it snowed again or not. It wouldn’t hurt to be ahead of the curve, especially with everything that would be going on.

Queen Historia would be going on progress through the three walls, although she wouldn’t be coming to Stohess until she was returning to the capital city. Commander Dawk, however, would be stopping off in Stohess to see how the Military Police were doing. It wouldn’t be a formal inspection, but Marco intended to treat it like one. It wouldn’t hurt them to give the commander a good impression.

Beyond that there was the Scouting Legion to worry about. A few squads would be passing through to escort Historia through her kingdom and outside of the walls, but they would be passing through Stohess. Marco was sure that he would be asked to put the squads up in the barracks for that time. There were a few empty rooms that he could air out, although not if there was more snow on the way.

He bit his lip, considering his options. His fingers kept drumming against his side until he heard a sound from his bed. Marco twisted, smiling when he saw Jean poking his head out from under the covers.

Jean stared blearily at him for a moment, Marco sighing as Jean narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing up?”

“Thinking.”

“I can hear that from here.” Jean grumbled and shifted back under the pile of covers. Marco watched him shift under them for a moment before Jean reached out and flicked the far edge of the covers up. It didn’t reveal much of the bed, but Marco doubted that Jean would crawl out of the bed until he had no other choice. Jean lifted his head just enough to see that Marco hadn’t moved before letting it fall back onto the pillow. “Get back in here.”

Marco chuckled and padded across the wooden floor. He pulled the covers back enough to slip into the bed, not surprised when Jean scooted away. Considering the riding that Jean had been doing in the snow, he doubted that Jean would do anything that would get him out into the cold again. He rolled his eye as he turned to face Jean.

He kept still as Jean found a comfortable spot again, eventually migrating back to where he had been before Marco had wiggled out of bed. He partially draped himself over Marco, one hand groping around for Marco’s. Jean sighed when he finally found it, holding tight to it as he seemed to sink back into sleep. Marco smiled down at Jean, feeling himself relax a bit more.

It wasn’t too different from the way that they had slept in training, although they wouldn’t have dared to leave their clothes thrown around the room like they were now. Marco was sure that Jean would have grown out of sleeping practically on top of whoever he was next to in the Scouting Legion, but some part of him was glad. Everyone had changed so much that sometimes Marco had trouble recognizing his friends from training. Out of all of them, he had probably changed the least. After all, he had been safe inside the walls while they had been out risking their lives.

He grunted when Jean’s head knocked against his collarbone. “You’re thinking again.”

“I do that.”

Jean huffed, lifting his head so he could rest his chin on Marco’s chest. “About what?”

Marco nodded towards the window. “The cadets are out playing in the snow.”

“Good for them.”

“That would have been us.” Jean snorted in response, Marco just giving him a smile. “Alright, it would have been some of us. You would have been sulking inside until someone dragged you out.”

That seemed to please him. Jean hummed and closed his eyes, but he didn’t fall back asleep. He rolled his head to the side, resting his cheek against Marco’s chest. “Things haven’t changed much.”

“The important things have.”

The only answer that he got was a huff, but Marco chose to take that as a good thing. Jean would have come up with something more substantial if he thought Marco was wrong. Besides, Marco was sure of himself. The titans might have been nearly destroyed and the Scouting Legion might have started to push outside the walls, but the little things hadn’t changed. Cadets still rushed to play out in the snow and Jean was still grumpy on cold mornings.

Marco chuckled to himself, apologizing for the motion of his chest with a kiss to the top of Jean’s head. He didn’t think that Jean really paid attention to it, his breathing already evening out in sleep. Marco rubbed his thumb over the back of Jean’s hand. The man wiggled closer, settling more over him, like Jean was preventing him from getting up again. Marco wouldn’t have put it past Jean, but he doubted that he would be getting out of bed unless an emergency happened. The snow would keep the city quiet for the most part, which meant that it could do without him for a morning. It had been a while since he had taken off some time for himself, and it was hard to push against the temptation when he had Jean draped over him.

He wriggled into a more comfortable position, closing his eyes as he listened to the sound of Jean’s breathing.


End file.
